Chapter Thirty Five
It was well past midnight when the whispers and rumours buzzing through the camp reached General Andrus, only moments before the road-weary soldier himself stumbled into his tent. With a muttered curse under his breath, Andrus threw down the documents in his hand.
"Report!"
Travers laughed darkly, holding a heavy hand to his ribs. He'd yet to see a medic, and was in dire need of one. Andrus himself found him a chair and helped to ease him down into it. "Things didn't go exactly as planned, sir," Travers said with another agonized laugh.
"Where is Lieutenant Cain?" Andrus demanded.
"Still... still in the shield, sir," Travers said, bending over slightly and grimacing as he did so. The young soldier drew in a shaky breath, and then began to cough. "He wouldn't follow me out. The old witch has taken a liking to him, and he's been by her side for the better part of a week."
"And he...?"
"Ordered me to get out," Travers said. "He's waiting on something, damned if I know what."
Andrus swore. With a sharp glance cast sideways, he hampered a torrents worth more. "How did you escape?" he asked the young sergeant in front of him. Gods, but he wanted Jeb Cain's head at that moment. It would be a one-way trip to the Tower dungeons for the boy when – and if – he returned.
"Snuck out with an escort being sent along the north road to the village," Travers said, and then suppressed a rueful smile with a shake of his head. "There was some unpleasantness when the escort met with the contact."
"With Hardy?"
Travers slouched forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees. He regarded the floor instead of the superior who'd addressed him. "I wasn't able to get away as clean as expected," he said quite carefully. Andrus frowned as the beat of silence stretched out longer and longer. "Had to silence the escort, sir. Hardy was kind enough to help."
Andrus closed his eyes. "How many?"
"Three, sir."
"And how long until your absence is noticed and Cain is questioned?"
Travers looked up to squarely meet the general's eyes. "A day or two at most. There's no record I went out with the escort. But I can't stay here, sir. I need to move to a less sensitive location before she goes looking for me."
Andrus raised an eyebrow. "Do you mean magically? To my knowledge, there is no spell –"
Travers laughed, and Andrus turned his head to the side, wondering what exactly was so funny. Impatience was beginning to show through in his demeanour, something he rarely allowed. However, it seemed the involvement of Jeb Cain always heightened his stress.
"Not a spell," Travers said. "This is what Jeb –" And here he stopped and cleared his throat, "I mean, Lieutenant Cain sent me back here to tell you. The witch, Catticalisa, has some sort of book. Enchanted, the damn thing is. Called 'The Record'."
"A book?" Andrus asked skeptically. "What has this book to do with –"
"You don't understand, sir," Travers interrupted. "You ask it to show you someone, and it does. It tracks you down, no matter the distance, no matter if you're trying to hide from it or not. Its all rumours, hearsay about the camp but Cain saw the damn thing with his own eyes. The witch has been keeping an eye on the royal family and the army."
To say that his outlook of the war in its entirety shifted utterly was an understatement. Andrus weathered this news as best as he was able, but one thing became clear to him abundantly fast. Consulting the Queen came foremost in his mind, and his feet were carrying him to his desk even as his understanding of the situation was still being pulled out of the maze of questions popping up at him from every which way.
"Where is Hardy now?" Andrus asked the soldier even as he began to scribble a summons to the Queen.
"Rode for the Tower, tail between his legs," Travers said with a weak laugh. "Seems to think he's safer with the army than he is out where Catt's soldiers can get a hold of him."
"The better for us to have him in custody," Andrus said absently. Long minutes passed as he sealed the letter within an envelope. A messenger must be sent to Queen Azkadellia with all due haste. But something also had to be done about the soldier in front of him. Andrus sighed, bones aching. "Follow Hardy's lead and make for the Tower," the general ordered. "Unless you rather a detail escort you to detainment for your questionable actions during this mission."
Travers was on his feet. "N-no, sir. Yes, sir."
Andrus gave the soldier a brief pat on the shoulder. "Good lad," he muttered and left the young man behind in the tent as he crossed the camp to rouse his fastest messenger.
***
DG woke early, a heaviness in her chest that she could only account to dread making sleep difficult. The suns were an hour from rising, and the darkest part of the night had suffocated the room with a blanket of black. She settled on her back and stared off into nothing, thoughts racing on the same circuitous track, getting nowhere.
Her dreams had been silent over the past few nights, and it was becoming troublesome. It had taken a long time to get used to listening to what her dreams had to tell her, and applying it to life when some impulse in her brain made a connection. Now, without the guidance, the nagging hints or twisted visions, she felt a little lost.
Empty. Devoid of... something.
She rolled onto her side, eyes slamming shut. She tried to steal back the hour of rest that she would sorely miss by the end of the day. Her thoughts skipped back to her own room, her own bed in Central City. In these earliest hours, she'd often sneaked past a dozing Hass to her sister's rooms. Az...
DG rolled huffily onto her other side. The heaviness that had woken her bore down horribly at the very thought of her sister.
Az had always awoken before dawn; once, DG had found her sister alone on the balcony. Az had given her a wry smile, and muttered something about old habits dying hard. The Sorceress' obsession with watching the paths of the suns in the sky still drew Azkadellia from her bed every morning, compulsively without cause.
DG shook her head, sitting up with her hands over her face. She grumbled to herself as she climbed out of the bed, her mind set on a hot bath. If she couldn't sleep, she'd relax while she still could, damn it. But when the bathroom light flared and she caught sight of the mirror, the empty glass, she got an idea.
She put it off until after the bath, though it just wouldn't leave her alone, this brilliant idea frantically waving for her attention. After she finished bathing, she dressed and braided her hair. Quietly contemplating what she was about to attempt, she eyed the steamy mirror warily again and again. Using magic shouldn't make a person so jittery, should it? Cool and confident, like Azkadellia, that was how she'd wanted to be since she was a child, chasing after Azkadellia's skirt through the fields of Finaqua.
Finally, she couldn't stand it any longer, excitement rearing its head. DG gave her hands a loose shake. Tutor's calm, rational voice blandly repeating his encouragement rang through her head as it always seemed to when she was about to try something monumentally experimental.
She placed her hands, trembling as they were, on either side of the mirror's frame. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and tried to soothe her own nerves as she thought, as placidly as possible, of Central City, of her sister – and more specifically, the Queen's bedchamber where her sister would hopefully be. She felt the warmth of the spell on her skin more than she felt the ripple of energy that coursed through her fingertips and into the cold glass. When she opened her eyes, she saw that the hazy reflection of herself had disappeared, and she was now looking into something quite different. Keeping one hand on the mirror, she swiped the other across the glass, clearing away the fog.
The lamps were burning low in Azkadellia's sitting room, but no amount of darkness could hide from DG the familiar setting, the rooms that had once belonged to her mother and father. From her vantage point, she guessed she was peeking in through the mirror over the fireplace.
Her shoulders slumped in disappointment, but she didn't release her grip on the mirror. With magic as new to her as this, she didn't know what would cause the connection to break. A little more practice, and – with a shake of her head, she chased off her distracted thoughts. Face screwed up in concentration, she closed her eyes and tried for the vanity mirror in Azkadellia's bedroom. There was a shift; the warmth in her hands increased as a faint ring of white light began to shimmer over her skin. She opened her eyes expectantly, only to be greeted with the same vision of Azkadellia's sitting room.
"Damn," she growled, and let her head hang. Short of shouting for her sister, there wasn't much else she could do. "Az, wake up," she whispered with a low chuckle, heart beating out a painful rhythm of broken hope.
An insistent knock sounded, and DG nearly jumped out of her skin. She let go of the mirror, and the darkened room within the glass brightened until her own reflection, pale and wide-eyed, stared back at her and Azkadellia's sitting room disappeared.
Another sharp, three-beat knock, louder this time. If it was time to go, then she was eager to get it over with; she was out of the bathroom and across the bedroom before the impatient Tin Man on the other side of the door had a chance to bang on it again.
"I don't remember ordering a wake up call," she said, smiling as she opened the door. She had to give the man credit; normally by this point he would have been lecturing her good-naturedly through the wood about promptness. But when her eyes settled on the dark, looming figure, she realized why he wasn't.
"Sorry to bother you, Highness," said Zero; his salute seemed so proper, so official but for the mocking amusement in his grey eyes.
DG refrained from taking a step back; instead, she tried her best to square her shoulders and wipe the emotion from her face. Her eyes skipped around the sitting room at his back, but none of the others were anywhere to be seen. "What do you want?" she demanded; it was too early for this.
With a rough hand on her shoulder, he shoved his way into her room. He closed the door behind him, and DG was forced to jump out of the way or be run over. "Its imperative, Your Grace, that your guards not follow us into the Black Forest," he said ostensibly, his words clipped.
"You came storming in here for this?"
Zero's jaw clenched. He seemed to be fighting off a tirade. After a moment of internal struggle, he said "I wasn't commissioned to lead a royal detail into the woods. Its you and the kid and that's all, Love. Otherwise we go no further."
"Where are the others?" DG asked, avoiding the fact that he'd just made a threat. She needed a moment to think on it.
"Sleeping, or downstairs eating," Zero said offhandedly. He went straight back to the subject she'd tried to drop. "I don't think you're understanding me, Princess." He was acting far too familiar and comfortable with her, and it made her feel exposed. "Send your guards back to Central City."
"No."
Zero shook his head in disbelief, and laughed. "Stubborn little Other Sider," he muttered. "Don't ever recall your sister being as headstrong as you, but then, the Sorceress knew how to keep her in line."
DG closed her eyes, biting the inside of her cheek to keep quiet. "You help us in exchange for your freedom," she said slowly. "That was the deal."
"I help another," he snapped, fed up. "There is a debt being held over my head that needs repaying, and the clock on it is ticking. I am under orders to aid you, Princess, in your noble quest, or whatever other nonsense you've got yourself believing. The Viewer and the shapeshifter are not part of the deal, and neither is Wyatt Cain." He spit Cain's name out upon the floor, and DG's anger simmered ever hotter.
"Who?" she demanded. "Who's orders do you follow?"
Zero laughed at her. "That isn't information I'm going to be divulging, so don't get your back up. Cain and the others won't be with us when we make for the forest today, so you'd better figure something out lest I have to take care of the problem for you." His voice left it in no way unclear what he meant.
"Out!" DG shouted; the door to the sitting room flew open of its own accord, slamming against the wall. Zero didn't jump, the expression on his face didn't change. He only eyed her with open anger and annoyance. He considered her for a long moment, before bowing his head and exiting her room. He left the door wide open, and it wasn't a minute later that Raw came hurrying in, eyes red and sleepy as he came to check on her.
The Viewer looked around the room slowly, before his eyes settled on the trembling princess, her cheeks pink and her eyes blazing. A soft breath deflated him. "Afraid of truth," Raw told her solemnly.
"Am not," was all she could find to say.
***
When the first sun broke the horizon, Wyatt Cain was crouched down with one knee in the mud, thinking about his son. Below him, down a gentle slope, the Old Road cut its haphazard path through the woods. To the north, the deafening roar of the river's crash and tumble rapids was diminished to a mere low rush.
Over the past hour, he and the corporal had checked out every road that left the village. An old wagon trail that ambled Southeast had perked his interest, but they'd moved onto the next location nonetheless. Now they overlooked the road connecting the village to the yellow bricked thoroughfare. At what point the thoughts of Jeb had crawled into his mind, he couldn't figure, but now he was plagued by them.
The early morning was unusually quiet, but the cold nip to the wind kept the world from stirring from its bed too soon. The quietude gave his brain time to mull over a great many things keeping busy usually kept at bay. He'd been successful in warding thoughts of Jeb off for most of the journey, had promised himself that he wouldn't let worry over his son interfere with the task at hand, and keeping himself and DG – and an ever-growing band of travellers – safe. This down time had his mind raging with the type of concern that always took him by surprise. He wasn't a worrier, that was for damn sure.
Beside him, the corporal shifted uncomfortably. The half-frozen ground was less than inviting, but Wyatt had never minded the wet or cold.
"Would you quit twitchin' your tail-feathers?" Wyatt asked blandly, staring down the road that eventually led to Finaqua.
Hass cleared his throat in affirmation, and the fidgeting momentarily ceased. After a few blissfully still moments, the corporal shifted to his other knee, cocking his head ever so slightly. "I think I hear someone coming," he said low.
Cain listened, but heard nothing more than the distant rumble of the river. "You sure?" he asked.
There was a beat of silence, and then the corporal nodded. "Yeah. Rider's definitely trying to break some records."
Cain's brow knit together as he listened hard, throwing all his concentration into it. Not ten seconds had passed before he picked out the sound of hooves thundering up on the Brick Route. From the South, it grew louder and louder until he made out the moving figure coming up the road at breakneck speed. Cursing the weak light, it wasn't until the rider was practically underneath them that Cain got a good look.
"That's a royal army uniform," Hass muttered as the horse flew past; the rider didn't see the two figures on the hill watching his progress. "Messenger, you think?"
"Whatever dispatch he's carryin', its urgent," Cain said, watching the horse depart as fast as it had come. "With all four Guild generals in the Southern Province, he's makin' for Central City."
"In that much of a hurry?"
Cain frowned, eyeing the dirt and dead leaves he was kneeling in as he tried to hold onto the fading pound of horseshoes. "These days, its best to hurry," he said, and stood. He was certain he heard his old knees creak at the effort. This journey was wearing him down.
The brisk walk back to the village was ghostly silent. There had been frost overnight, and now each and every surface was painted with brittle fingers of white. As they entered the public house, the man who had rented them the rooms the night before nodded his head in greeting. Cain touched his fingers to the brim of his hat, but no words were exchanged and the two men crossed the room and mounted the stairs, the presence unnoticed and soon forgotten.
The others were awake, and had eaten. Minus the princess, they'd all congregated in the central sitting room, their mood decidedly subdued. Raw and Tory talked in the same secluded corner the Viewer had retreated into the night before; the conversation stopped, however, the minute Cain and Hass entered the room. Zero was watching out the window, as DG had done. At the arrival of Cain, Zero had turned toward the door and caught the Tin Man's eyes with his own. The hostile glare lasted only a moment before Cain turned away dismissively and went to DG's room.
He didn't have time for Zero's dramatics.
DG's door was unlocked, and he slipped into the bedroom to find her fully dressed, right down to her coat and shoes, laying atop the coverlet on the bed. She didn't move when he came in, and he realized she was asleep. She woke when he sat down on the edge of the mattress, his weight sinking in and startling her.
"You gonna be all right today?" he asked her as she pulled herself to sitting.
She managed a sleepy nod, but her groggy state had stolen all her words.
"You sure?" he asked her. "That stone ain't gonna weigh you down too much?"
DG reached into the pocket of her coat and pulled out the Emerald. Its green glow tainted the skin of her fingertips as she held it carefully for him to see. "Its not as big of a burden as I thought it was going to be," she told him, relieved.
Cain raised an eyebrow as she turned the stone over in her fingers; her gaze was concentrated on it, and he could see green pinpricks of light in her eyes.
"So," she asked him slowly, carefully. "Do you think it will break into pieces? Or that its light will go out?"
"I haven't given much thought as to what's gonna happen to the thing," he said carefully. "Been thinkin' more on where we're headin' when its all said and done."
"We could go to the Ice Palace and avoid going back to Central City altogether," she told him, closing her fist around the stone. "And we can sort everything else out from there, can't we?"
Cain smirked at her hopeful tone. "Shouldn't be too hard. I'll take you North, and then I'll see about trackin' down my son."
"Are you worried about him?" DG asked, pocketing the Emerald. It seemed insecure, but then again, only a person with magic in their blood could take the stone from her. She could pass it on willingly to anyone, but he knew she'd die first... that thought didn't sit well, but he pushed it away. Back of the mind where all the troubles brewed.
"No," he said, feigning disinterest. "Just would like to know where he is, and if he's still breathin'."
"You don't want much at all then," she said. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, and scooted closer to him. "And when you're done chasing down Jeb and checking him for bruises, you'll come home? You won't decide you like the wider world all alone?"
Cain nodded, giving her a half-smile for her jab. "Yeah," he said softly, reaching up to brush his knuckles over her cheek. "There's no place like home." He leaned in and kissed her, lips claiming hers in a breathless rush. She tasted as fresh as the morning outside, her skin under his hand soft and smooth. The moment was bittersweet, barely begun before he was pulling away, regretfully forcing them both to move on.
He had her on her feet and out the door in less time than he thought it would take. She seemed to have caught some of his seriousness, for her face was impassive and unreadable as he watched her come down the stairs behind him. It wasn't until they were across town and outside the general store that she spoke.
"So why am I here, exactly?" she asked. "Not that I don't love helping but... don't you just walk in there and glare and brood until she crumbles and tells you whatever you want?" She looked up at him, genuinely curious. "You're not going to yank on her ears, are you?"
Cain pressed his lips into a thin line. "Sometimes," he said stiffly, biting back a sharper response, "these things just require a woman's touch."
The store's interior was dusty and crowded. Cain looked around with interest, though he'd grown up living the life this type of store helped to sustain. Country life, quiet and slow-paced and relatively peaceful compared to life in the city. His roaming eyes drank in bags of feed stacked next to shelves of white china dishes, lanterns and canned goods and nails. The place was quaint and unassuming, but well supplied and did good business. Hardy's no idiot, Cain thought as he strode slowly but purposefully toward the counter at the back of the store, keeping a close eye on DG's wandering all the while.
As he caught sight of the young blonde girl coming out of the back room, he wondered just how much the daughter knew about her father's business expansions.
"Something I can help you with?" the girl asked; she attempted a smile, but one look at Cain had her freezing like a doe caught in the headlamps.
Cain opened his mouth to speak, with every intention of bringing up a slew of questions the girl might not want to answer willingly, but before he could, the door was thrown casually open behind them, cutting off his words. Heavy boots on the wood floor sounded a dull echo that warned every nerve he had that trouble was behind him. They'd left coming here too long. It was time to make a quick – and discreet – exit.
"I wouldn't be tellin' those men a thing if I were you," he told Hardy's daughter, the razor edge in his voice causing her to pale as her eyes flicked to the new entrants still lingering intimidatingly at the front of the store. DG had gone rigid beside him and was glancing nervously over her shoulder. What she saw made her gasp; she whirled around to face him, blue eyes wide, lips pursed and white.
"Why are we still standing here?" she hissed.
Cain rolled his eyes. "There a back way out?" he asked Hardy's daughter.
The girl nodded. "Behind me, hallway leads straight outside."
Cain tipped his hat, seized DG by the arm, and made a swift escape. As he dragged the princess down the narrow hall, he heard behind him, "Something I can help you gentlemen with?" Cain felt a momentary wave of reprieve; whether the girl knew it or not, she created a decent diversion. DG came along easily as he pulled on her, but he couldn't take the time to stop and answer her stuttering questions.
Two soldiers from Catt's army in Hardy's store. As he'd suspected, Hardy's disappearance was causing a bit of a stir. If it muddied the waters up a little bit, who was to say they couldn't get through undetected? As he and DG exited the building through the propped-open loading doors, he kept her close to the wall. He had his hand on his revolver, but the caution seemed overdone. There wasn't another soldier in sight; but it didn't make sense for her to send just two. Where were the others?
There was a firm tap on his shoulder. "Why are we playing hide-and-seek?" DG asked him. Her blue eyes tried their very best to be brave.
"Catt's men were in there lookin' for Hardy," he explained shortly. "They catch sight of you.... well, they ain't catchin' sight of you. We need to regroup. I think we just found someone who knows the way."
"Well, that's convenient," she muttered, and he turned to her to see her smiling brightly. "Hey, do you think we could follow them back into the Forest?"
Cain didn't reply as he checked the street again. Once he was certain it was safe, he motioned for DG to follow him. It was troublesome to keep his strides even; if DG were running to keep up with him, they'd draw too much attention. It was an agonizingly slow stroll back to the public house. With every glance at his princess, he saw the wheels in her brain turning and a thousand questions building up in her sweet, little mouth. He had to admit, he was impressed and proud that she'd caught on so quickly to what he intended to do.
DG took hold of him by the arm as they mounted the steps and reached the porch. She tugged at him, her eyes pleading with him to take a minute and listen to her. That reproachful, angelic "Please" stare she always seemed to manage so well, although if there was a part of her that was truly innocent, he'd boil up his boot leather for supper.
His lips stretched into a thin line. He didn't have much for her, nothing at all really.
The door burst outward; quicker than thinking, he had DG spun and pressed into the wall, leaning into her and hiding her with the panel of his coat. The princess was holding her breath, head tucked up against his shoulder; she'd gone completely stiff. A second pair of Catt's soldiers stepped off the porch and made their way toward the store on the far end of the street. In the clearer, stronger light the morning offered him, he saw a group of horses stamping and sending up steam in the field that rolled off behind the store.
"Wyatt," DG said shakily.
Heaving a deep, rumbling sigh, Cain rested his hands on her shoulders, and pushed himself to arm's length away from her. Her cheeks and the tip of her nose were tinged pink from the nip in the air, and her shallow breaths came out in tiny, visible puffs before her.
"Those men'll be makin' their way back into the Forest," he told her as certainly as he could. "No way she's gonna have her soldiers runnin' cross country after one man. Not as wanted as those Longcoats are by the royal army."
"Then why send them here?" DG asked.
"Seems to me she's gettin' cocky," he said with a smirk; DG let out a breathy laugh that danced on the air in front of her. "This place is a safe enough distance, especially if she knows most of the army's strength is concentrated farther South."
Instead of responding, DG swallowed hard and leaned her head back against the building. The porch roof was shielding them from the morning suns, and her eyes seemed dark and haunted. Something was eating away at her, and it didn't take too much out of him to figure just what. It wasn't that she was scared of what she had to do – the kid had more guts than even she realized, though it had taken a long time to get it through his own head. Hell, he knew she'd march in and get herself killed if it was her life needed laying down to destroy the stone. It wasn't her own death that scared her, no, he doubted that thought had ever crossed her mind. No, it was the danger to those she loved – above all, himself and the Furball – that sent her blood running cold.
She was going to ask him to stay behind. Damned if she wasn't going to have the nerve to ask him to stay. She wouldn't order him, though it was in her power to do so. No, she was going to turn those blue eyes on him, misted over with bitter tears, and ask him to stay behind, to let her carry on alone.
Cain glared hard at DG and willed her to do it. If he turned it all off, the worry and the possessiveness and just washed his hands of it all, surely he could just stand by and let her walk away. She was a capable girl; he was no fool and he wasn't going to act like one and deny the fact that she contained more raw power in her than any fury of nature could ever conjure up.
He tried to catch her blues but they skipped nervously away like stirred-up butterflies. Cain raised his own eyes skyward in exasperation. The girl could go toe-to-toe with an Outlander but she couldn't face up to him. Frowning, he ran his rough hands over her shoulders and up her neck, capturing her jaw on either side to train her face on him. Still, her eyes took in every part of him before she met his own eyes. She almost winced at the intensity of his stare, but she held up.
"Deeg," he said, voice quiet and hoarse. Once he had her eyes anchored, she couldn't look away. "I know what you're thinkin', Darlin'. I can see it written over every inch of this pretty face." His thumb reached up and swept over her cold cheek. "You're gonna have to give me your reasonin' for it though, because damned if I can figure it out myself."
She gave him a nervous, fluttering smile. "Am I really that obvious?"
"A little bit, yeah." Sure now she wasn't going to look away, he lowered his hands from her face, running them down her arms to rest at her elbows. "And you'd best make it worth it, 'cause you don't exactly have the authority to demand I leave my post at your side."
DG's mouth crooked unhappily at the corner. "I'm getting this nasty feeling in my stomach," she said, and she centered her hands over her belly, fingers grazing the wool of her coat. "I know where I've been, Cain. I know what I can and can't do," she explained patiently. "And what I don't think I'm going to be able to do is get myself out of this mess once I'm done getting into it."
"We've been well into the mire for a while now."
Another fleeting smile. "You're right," she acknowledged. "But I think I need a white knight, and you're insisting on being a damn red shirt!"
He raised a scarred eyebrow, his head turning to one side of its own accord in confusion.
DG put her hands over her face. "Nevermind," she said softly. "I don't think you can protect me from this, Cain."
"But you want me to try and save you from it. Be a white knight," he said skeptically. She gave him a weak nod. Aggravated, he squeezed her elbows as his head hung momentarily. He didn't like that they'd been dragged into a damn fairy story. Stories meant the endings had already been decided, and he didn't abide by that one bit.
It's not like you're waving her off and saying 'See you down the road', he reminded himself.
"Trustin' Zero to keep you outta trouble ain't exactly high on my priority list," Cain said.
DG smiled, a bit of her spark showing through the misery in her face. "But we're not trusting Zero, we're trusting me," she told him. "And we're not counting on Zero keeping me out of trouble. He's going to get me into it."
Cain chuckled then, unable to stop the gut reaction to the girl's audacity. She was better equipped to deal with the world's troubles than he gave her credit for sometimes, all heart and brains and courage rolled into a fiery little package, with enough magic in her to blow a crater in the ground to boot.
"I hope you know what you're doin'," he said. "I'm gonna have a hell of a time explainin' this to Raw and Hass."
"They'll understand," she said, with a little self-affirming nod. Without a word, without agreeing with her because he sorely didn't, Cain led DG inside and upstairs. The door was wrenched open for them before they'd even reached it, and the two slipped into the sitting room where the others waited agitatedly.
"Soldiers in town," Raw said as he hovered near one window, peeking covertly through the heavy curtains. "Not looking for DG. Looking for same man Tin Man can't find."
"Tin Man's stopped lookin'," Cain growled low, joining the Viewer at the window. A quick glance outside showed a gathering of the four men he'd already encountered outside Hardy's store on the far end of the street.
The next few moments passed in a blur of push and shove, leaving all feeling jolted and bereft, tumbled about by a twister and thrown to the ground again, disoriented and confused. Cain watched the entire scene with a detached sense permeating his body, somehow knowing all that was about to happen, seeing it before in the darkest places of his mind. The faster this was over with, the better, and so he stood back.
Zero stalked forward and forcefully seized DG by the arm. "Fork in the road, Princess," he said smugly as he yanked her toward the door. DG jerked her arm back again, running to Cain and throwing her arms around his neck. Wyatt stiffened, unsure of how to respond at her sudden cold feet when her lips were suddenly next to his ear and she was whispering to him.
"Az. Go get my sister. She can help, I know she can."
Eyes locking onto hers as she pulled away, Cain tried to read the girl in his arms. There was bravery set firmly in her face, as her eyes begged at him for something. His hands relaxed and he let go of his vice grip on her arms.
"I'll see you down the road," he said with a curt bow of his head. Distance, coolness, the only way he knew how to react to situations not of his liking.
"How long?"
"No more than two days, and I'll be right behind you," he said, sighing deeply.
She nodded, and her eyes glittered with unshed tears. She tore herself away from the Tin Man, turned her back and walked out of the room without a backwards glance. Zero followed her without a word, only a rough jerk of his head at Tory, who skedaddled behind and shut the door with a wave and a smile at Cain and Raw.
"Captain," Hass said loudly, with an incredulous laugh. "What in –"
"Follow her," Cain ordered, the command finding its way off his tongue as soon as it had crossed his mind. "Keep a close eye on her."
"Sir, with all due respect –"
"No, you follow her!" Cain barked. "Things go bad, report to the generals. Do not risk capture."
Hass nodded in understanding, glaring at Cain with disagreement sparking from his eyes. He was gone out of the room within seconds, shutting the door discreetly behind him, and breaking into a run on the stairs. Cain watched the closed door with a heaviness settling in his chest. He joined Raw at the window, catching the briefest glimpse of three bodies disappearing into the woods beyond the village in a generally Southeasterly direction, one with dark hair flying behind her as she was escorted along.
He shook his head, closed his eyes. The room was too quiet. It was going to take some discipline on his part to shift his focus away from DG, and the Emerald.
Azkadellia. She'd said go for Azkadellia.
After a few minutes of complete and utter silence, Raw gently cleared his throat. "DG have good reason?" he asked.
"Stubborn ain't a good enough reason?" Cain grumbled.
Raw's face was good-natured and serene, the smallest smile on his lips as he regarded Cain with a calmness the Tin Man found himself envying. Cain's eyes returned to the window, and the faint figures of four men on horseback, shadowy outlines in Hardy's field. They'd be easy enough to track; if Zero kept a patient head on his shoulders and the suns held out, the soldiers could be followed without the princess ever being seen.
"We have part in this plan?" Raw asked him.
Cain nodded grimly. "We have to move fast."
(Author's Note: *ducks* Leave me one? My poor, poor muse feels a little unloved. Hence her malicious plot twists...)